Summer at the Burrow
by michelle-31a
Summary: Harry tries to deal with the death of Sirius and the knowledge of the Prophecy while spending the last two weeks of summer at the Burrow, when an unexpected visit from Luna Lovegood turns his entire though processes askew...
1. Default Chapter

Harry closed the door behind him and flopped down heavily on the side of the bed. He was tired. No, more than tired, actually. More like drained, really. Not so much physically as emotionally, though that fact made it no less debilitating. He looked around the room at the various posters of the Chudley Cannons up on the walls, grateful for this moment of solitude after hours of feigning hardiness to his hosts.  
  
Though he was tremendously fond of the Weasleys, Harry hadn't been looking forward to spending his last few weeks of summer holidays at the Burrow this year. All the attention, coddling and adulation he was receiving was having the very opposite effect of its original intent, though such was Harry's affection for the crimson_haired family that he'd forced himself to smile dully and play along as best as his exhausted psyche allowed, which was to say, not much.  
  
For the first time since he'd begun attending Hogwarts, Harry found himself wishing he'd stayed cooped up with the Dursleys for the entire summer, dour and unpleasant as they were. It wasn't that he didn't want to see the Weasleys, far from it, but having spent countless hours staring at his bedroom ceiling at Privet Drive had allowed Harry to reflect and to think certain things through.  
  
He'd made no mention of it to anyone, of course, but he was now quite convinced that, far from being the object of everyone's salvation from the Dark Lord, Harry might instead be the very instrument of their demise. Unwillingly so, of course, but this would hardly matter in the end. So long as he was here, at the Burrow, his friends were in danger. He knew this, allowing it to become his overriding obsession during the summer. His being here might well result in their sharing Sirius' fate, and Harry knew he could not bear such a loss again.  
  
Sirius...  
  
It had been his fault that Sirius had been taken from him...and he feared, more than anything in the world, that it would also be his fault when his friends were taken from him, too...  
  
But then, they'd been so adamant about getting him away from the Dursleys that he'd been unable to make up a plausible excuse without revealing his innermost fears, which he knew would only lead to more arguments. And he was so tired of arguing...they wouldn't leave him alone, even now...  
  
He dropped his head onto the pillow, one leg stretched out atop the bedsheets while the other hung lazily over the side. He ran the back of his hand across his forehead and sighed. What else could he do? Ron and Hermione had obviously seen though Harry's facade and had both offered to be his sounding board, but Harry knew full well no one could help him now. He would travel this road alone from now on.  
  
One day, perhaps...he might return. But if he did, he'd return as a murderer. The Prophecy had made that unavoidable. Dumbledore had made that unavoidable.  
  
He sighed.  
  
He might have asked to go to Grimmauld Place instead, though the place now held such painful memories that he doubted he could spend a night there without going mad. He'd had enough nightmares about Sirius dying over and over, sometimes by Harry's own hand, causing him no end of restless nights.  
  
No, in the end he'd finally agreed to come to the Burrow for the simple reason that he was just too tired to argue any longer.  
  
And it had been difficult to acquiesce, and not just because of Mrs. Weasley's motherly coddling, which only served to make Harry stiffen uncomfortably. Rather, it was having to look them all in the eyes and seeing the obliviousness in their faces...they just didn't realize the danger they were in, and all because of him.  
  
Harry had found it especially hard to talk with Ron and Hermione of late. Conversations with them had taken place with Harry staring at his feet, his hands, the walls, anything but his friends' faces. He knew it was possible that Voldemort might still be capable of seeing the world through Harry's eyes, and he was determined to avoid revealing his closeness to his friends, lest it provoke a strike against those whom he loved more than anything in the world.  
  
He tried to console himself that the distance he was putting between them might one day be undone; once he'd completed his Occlumency lessons, Voldemort would no longer be able to use him as his tool.  
  
And yet, he had mixed feelings. Occlumency...he was truly dreading the lessons now. The knowledge that Dumbledore would be tutoring him sent his stomach into knots. He wasn't at all sure if he would ever be able to forgive the old Headmaster, and the possibility of him reaching into Harry's mind was not at all agreeable.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and let the busy sounds of the Burrow drift up to him. He heard the bevelled doors clatter shut downstairs, followed almost immediately by laughter and voiced greetings. Another member of the Weasley clan had just arrived from the sounds of it, though from up in Ron's room it was difficult to guess exactly which, the voices intermingling themselves in a muted jumble. But they, at least, still had family...  
  
Harry could hear the birds outside chirping happily through the open window much more clearly than the people downstairs. Harry was envious; those birds were well and truly free, quite unlike himself. They could spend their lives as they saw fit, and not have it mapped out before them, knowing they dare not deviate, no matter how badly they wished to.  
  
No, they could sing away, quite contentedly, without a care in the world beyond finding the next worm sticking out of the ground. They didn't even have to deliver owl post, to boot. Harry wished he could be perched out their with them right now...he tried to imagine...his world faded to black...  
  
"Harry?"  
  
He jerked awake. From the angle of the sun's rays shining through the window above his head, he guessed is was now late afternoon; he must have dozed off for a few hours at least.  
  
"Hey mate," Harry heard Ron's voice intone from near the door, though he kept his gaze firmly rivetted to the ceiling. "Watcha doing up here? You're not planning on sleeping through the next two weeks, are you?"  
  
"No," replied Harry glumly. "I was just tired, that's all."  
  
There was a brief, awkward silence. Harry could sense his friend was having difficulty interpreting Harry's persisting melancholy. He felt a twinge of guilt at not being able to tell Ron why he really didn't want to be here. One day, he would understand...  
  
"Um...sure, all right," said Ron hesitantly. "Well, you better not fall asleep again, Mum's getting dinner ready."  
  
Harry sighed, a bit louder than he intended. Sitting at the table with the whole Weasley clan fussing over him was not something he was relishing. Still, he couldn't avoid it. He still had to eat, and besides, Molly Weasley might mistake his absence as dissatisfaction with her cooking, or even come up here herself and give him another hug.  
  
"Yeah, okay, thanks," said Harry. "I'll be down in a bit."  
  
Harry didn't move, instead listened carefully as he heard Ron slowly close the bedroom door. Harry loathed being so aloof with his friend, but until he could complete his Occlumency training at Hogwarts, he had to keep a certain distance.  
  
He chanced a glance at the door. Ron was gone.  
  
He took a deep breath as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Well, there was nothing for it; he'd have to go down and mingle, like it or not. Maybe the sheer number of people would keep Voldemort off- balance, from zeroing in that these were both his closest friends and most cherished people in his life.  
  
He shuffled his feet lethargically across the small bedroom and opened the door.  
  
He'd just stepped out onto the tiny landing when he noticed someone dragging a large trunk up the narrow, twisting staircase towards him. He stopped and stared at the figure in confusion until he suddenly recognized the conspicuously lengthy mane of dishevelled, sand_coloured hair.  
  
"Luna?" he said. "What are you doing here?"  
  
The Ravenclaw pulled her trunk up a few more steps before she drew herself up before Harry, gazing at him with those large, slightly disconcerting silver eyes. She was wearing a plain, light blue pinafore over a horrendously clashing ochre blouse, underscored, as if it wasn't enough, by a long sage skirt lined with dozens of dangling acorns and rounded out by a very worn pair of brown carpet slippers. Her butterbeer cap necklace was still resolutely in place, though her radish earrings had been replaced by two tiny feathers, one a striking shade of blue and the other a rather dull orange. Harry nearly guffawed at the sight; he was no expert on fashion, but he knew such colours were never meant to appear on one person all at once.  
  
"Hello Harry," she said dreamily, brushing a few straggling locks of hair from her face. "Ginny invited me, actually."  
  
Harry blinked. "Um, no, that's not what I meant," he amended. He'd been more startled than anything, as no one had made mention of Luna's visit, so far as he could recall.  
  
In actual fact, though surprised by her appearance, he found he was genuinely pleased to see Luna. Their parting conversation at the end of the previous semester had lingered in his thoughts throughout the summer, not only because of the glimmer of hope he'd allowed himself to see in her words, but also the unexpected realization that things were far from rosy in Luna's world. And not to mention the rather odd letter he'd received from her soon after the end of the semester, which had necessitated his sneaking into Dudley's room to consult the dictionary. "That came out wrong. I just meant I didn't know you were coming. Did you just get in?"  
  
Luna nodded. "Yes," she said, indicating her old battered trunk with a wave of her hand. "I didn't know I was coming either until yesterday, actually, but Ginny was quite insistent."  
  
"Yeah, they wouldn't take no for an answer with me, either," said Harry. "But, um...it's...I'm glad she asked you."  
  
Luna smiled. "Well thank you, Harry," she said serenely. "That's sweet. How was your summer?"  
  
"Oh, it was – " Harry was about to say 'okay' as the reflex response that he'd always given anyone who asked, but for some reason he felt he didn't have to pretend with Luna. " – well, pretty rotten, to tell you the truth. But then it pretty much always is, if you know the Dursleys. But they weren't as bad as other years, so I guess I shouldn't complain too much. How about you, did you find any of those Snork_thingies in Switzerland?"  
  
Luna shook her head. "Sweden, actually," she said, "and they're called Crumple_Horned Snorkacks. But no, we didn't. But we did catalogue some tracks and even managed to collect a few hair samples, so Daddy said we'll go back next year. We'll do better, now that we have a better idea of the area and habitat."  
  
Her eyes widened suddenly. "Would you like to see it?" she asked eagerly. "I've got one right here – "  
  
Harry jumped back as Luna excitedly heaved the trunk up to the landing, narrowly missing his toes. She flipped open the lid and rummaged through the old chest, Harry leaning over to peer inside curiously. What had Luna meant by 'it', exactly?  
  
She fished out a tiny wooden box and held it up before her before proceeding to open it carefully, her fingers reaching daintily inside and withdrawing –  
  
– nothing. Or at least, nothing that Harry could see.  
  
"Er..."  
  
Luna put the box back in her trunk and straightened up, pinching her fingers together just inches apart from each other, as though holding a thread between them.  
  
"See?" she said breathlessly. Harry squinted but could see nothing but Luna's fingers. Might she be making it all up? Luna believed in some pretty outrageous things, it was true, but Harry never thought it was to the point of self_delusion.  
  
"I...um..." Harry hesitated. He didn't want to sound like he didn't believe her, but –  
  
"Can't you see it?" she asked, as though sensing his doubts. But before Harry could even respond, she stepped closer to him and brought her hands right up to his face. Harry could finally discern a thin, wispy brown strand held between her fingers, though his attention was quickly drawn to the large, mesmerizing silver eyes just beyond. She was standing so close –  
  
He swallowed. "Um, yeah," he managed to blurt out, "there it is, all right..."  
  
"Just think, Harry," she said with obvious enthusiasm, moving the strand so close that it blurred out of focus, making his vision focus entirely on those huge, luminous eyes, "this came from an actual Snorkack! Can you imagine?"  
  
"Yeah," said Harry dully. "Who would've thought..." Harry didn't know if his imagination was playing tricks on him or not, but had Luna moved even closer?  
  
At this proximity he was struck by the misty kaleidoscope that was Luna's eyes; they were strangely beguiling...it was almost as though they could see right into him...Harry could see a myriad hues of silver and pearl, seeming to almost glow with a life all their own...  
  
Wow...  
  
"It's exciting, isn't it?" said Luna, abruptly breaking Harry's near trance and serenely drawing back, carefully putting the wispy filament back into its tiny container. Harry blinked repeatedly, surprised to find himself wishing the strange moment hadn't ended quite so quickly.  
  
"Um, yeah," he said thickly, shaking his head vigorously to regain his bearings.  
  
"No?" said Luna, tilting her head slightly as she gazed at him in apparent confusion.  
  
"No – I meant yes," amended Harry. "Sorry, I was just clearing my head – "  
  
Luna smiled. "Well, that's an odd way of doing it, but if it works..."  
  
Harry cleared his throat and pointed to the battered old trunk. "Did you show that, er, evidence to Hermione?"  
  
Luna nodded sadly. "Yes," she said solemnly, "but she said it was inconclusive, actually."  
  
Harry allowed himself a small smile. "Well, that's too bad," he said. "Don't give up, though. You'll find them one day, they can't keep hiding forever."  
  
Though Harry had intended it in jest, Luna evidently took him at his word. "Oh, surely they can't," she said eagerly. "People are always finding clues, after all. Daddy says at the rate research is proceeding that it's only a matter of time."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, a bit confused as to how to respond to her unexpectedly serious concurrence with his 'joke'. He wondered why Luna placed so much faith and put so much energy in something so, well, ludicrous.  
  
She was standing perfectly still, staring at him expectantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
Luna tilted her head. "I can't get by with you standing there," she said, pointing to her trunk. "I have to bring it upstairs. It is a quite narrow staircase, isn't it?"  
  
"Eh? What – oh!" Harry looked around and realized he was blocking the staircase leading up to the top two floors.  
  
"Here," he said, grabbing hold of one of the trunk's handles, "I'll give you a hand with that."  
  
"Oh, that's all right," said Luna, smiling. "I'll manage. It's not so heavy as it looks, really."  
  
"No, I insist," countered Harry determinedly, the memory of Luna pinning up her list of missing things still vivid in his mind. "Grab your end. It's another two flights up to Ginny's room, that's where you're going, right?"  
  
Luna stared at him blankly for several long moments. "Well...yes," she said slowly, an uncertain expression crossing her pale features. "But...well, all right..."  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Harry. He was getting a bit concerned, not accustomed to seeing her so hesitant.  
  
"Well, it's bad luck climbing stairs backwards, you know," she said conversationally. "Don't forget what happened to Xavier Bunglethorne."  
  
Harry did a double_take. "Eh? Who?"  
  
Luna smiled. "You know, 'One_Eye' Bunglethorne. When he was helping his wife carry up that armoire up the staircase in Castle Urquhart, remember?"  
  
"Um...not really..."  
  
Luna slowly shook her head in disbelief. "Well," she said finally, "he became known as 'One_Eye' right after that. You wouldn't want to be known as 'One_Eye' Potter, would you?"  
  
Harry chuckled, the first sign of real mirth he'd uttered in weeks. "Don't worry," he assured her, "I'll be careful. We'll take it nice and slow."  
  
Luna nodded reluctantly and carefully took hold of the other handle. Harry noticed the trunk was, indeed, not so heavy as he'd expected it to be. Still, it was large enough to be cumbersome, and he was determined not to let Luna drag it all the way up by herself.  
  
"Why do you use such a big trunk, anyway?" he asked as he carefully backed up the first step. "It's not even half full by the weight of it – didn't you get your stuff back last year??"  
  
"Oh yes, most of it," answered Luna serenely. "But it's Mum's old trunk, and I am rather fond of it. Besides, it wouldn't make much sense to go out and get an entirely new trunk when I have a perfectly serviceable one right here, would it?"  
  
"No, I guess not," agreed Harry, carefully shuffling up the stairs.  
  
They slowly made their way up the awkward staircase, Harry stumbling backwards, several times bumping his back into the many irregularly_shaped bannisters. Luna took to warning Harry as they went, with decidedly mixed results.  
  
"Ouch!" exclaimed Harry after hitting his elbow against a particularly stiff corner. "I thought you said left!"  
  
"Oops," said Luna, "I meant my left, which would be your right, then, wouldn't it? Sorry..." Harry noticed her voice betrayed more than a hint of amusement –  
  
"What are you laughing at?" accused Harry, struggling to suppress a grin.  
  
"Oh, nothing," answered Luna, conspicuously staring down at the trunk before her. Harry knew exactly what she was finding so amusing, yet far from being affronted he was finding it increasingly difficult to avoid laughing himself.  
  
"OW!!"  
  
"Oops...the other right..."  
  
By the time they'd reached Ginny's room, after countless bumps and bruises which Harry had the distinct impression Luna had deliberately directed him into, there was no longer the slightest possibility suppressing anything.  
  
The moment they reached the topmost landing they released the trunk as one, Luna dropping to her knees and clutching her sides as she let go a burst of laughter, with Harry falling backwards against the closed door, sliding all the way down to the floor as his legs gave out from under him.  
  
"Okay," he said in between gasps of breath, "next time...you go first!"  
  
Luna rocked back and forth, her infectious airy laughter filling the air. She looked at Harry with huge misty eyes swimming in tears.  
  
"Oh...that...was...awful!" she exclaimed breathlessly.  
  
"Yeah," relied Harry, struggling to get words out coherently through the chortling, "especially...as I'm the one...who's got all the bruises!"  
  
Luna put her hands over her mouth, her watery eyes widening. "Oh, that was terrible of me," she said, her apologetic words mixed in with contagious giggles. "I do hope you're not severely injured, Harry – "  
  
Harry shook his head, and as he looked at Luna, a sensation that had been all to infrequent of late came over him...he was actually enjoying himself, for the first time in months, and, for a few moments at least, all thoughts of Voldemort and the Prophecy had evaporated from his consciousness.  
  
"Luna," he said at last when he'd managed to regain the ability to speak reasonably fluidly, "I..."  
  
He trailed off. He didn't even know what he'd meant to say. The terrible weight of the last few months had lifted ever so slightly from his shoulders –  
  
"Harry?" said Luna, tilting her head slightly.  
  
He took a deep breath. "I just...thanks," he said finally, "I...I needed that..."  
  
Luna smiled, her expression suddenly serene. "I know," she said softly.  
  
Harry blinked. Of all the people he could find solace in, he'd never expected it to be Luna Lovegood. And yet, he didn't feel the reluctance to talk to her as he'd experienced with virtually everyone of late. She was sitting there, looking at him quietly...and she just seemed to...know.  
  
Harry opened his mouth just as a bellow from downstairs made its way up the winding staircase.  
  
"What are you two doing up there?" called up Ginny. "Will you hurry it up? We're all waiting, Mum won't let us eat till everyone's at the table! Come on!"  
  
Luna smiled at Harry and drew herself up, quickly dropping off her chest in Ginny's bedroom which Harry noted had been rearranged slightly to make room for a third makeshift bed.  
  
"Does Hermione know you're all going to bunkmates?" asked Harry as they descended the stairs into the cluttered family room.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, yes," said Luna, pausing in her dreamy humming of 'Weasley is our king', "Ginny said it would be good for her, though I'm not quite sure what she meant by that..."  
  
Harry smiled as they emerged outside, making their way along the narrow path through the garden to the long table the Weasleys had set up for dinner.  
  
"Well if it isn't Sleepyhead!" called out Fred from the back of the house, helping his mother carry in the last of the casseroles to the table.  
  
"Thought you'd gone into hibernation there, Harry!" said George from his place at the near side of the table.  
  
"Actually, a little nap seems to have done you good," added Mr. Weasley from his place at the head of the table. "Got some colour back in your cheeks there, Harry."  
  
Harry dropped down on the bench between Ron and Charlie, while Luna drifted off to the other side, coming face to face with Fred, who'd just dropped off the last casserole and was heading back down to join his brother at the end of the table.  
  
"Hello Frederick," she said dreamily, "I didn't see you when I came in."  
  
"Hi there," said Fred, smiling. "I'm George, though, actually. Fred's sitting overe there, see?"  
  
"No, you're Frederick," said Luna matter_of_factly, tilting her head curiously. "Why are you fibbing?"  
  
Fred looked momentarily nonplussed. "Eh? I...um...well because...it's light out. Yeah, there you go."  
  
Luna frowned. "Well, that doesn't sound like a very good reason," she said high_mindedly. "It stays light out quite late at this time of year, you know."  
  
With that, she turned from the befuddled twin and squeezed herself onto the bench between Ginny and Hermione, whom Harry noted could not have had more differing reactions.  
  
Ginny, who'd been quietly giggling at the conversation going on behind her, immediately threw an arm around Luna's neck and hugged the girl warmly, whilst Hermione in contrast stiffened visibly and rolled her eyes. Fred, meanwhile, looked to George at the far end of the table with a slightly helpless and bewildered expression before joining his twin. Harry couldn't recall ever seeing the Weasley twins so flatfooted. But then, he doubted they'd ever met anyone quite like Luna.  
  
"Can we eat now?" blurted out Ron impatiently, "I'm starving!"  
  
"Yes, yes, everyone's here," said Molly, looking around the table briefly before pointing her wand towards the kitchen. "Accio plates!" A stack of dishes came flying out of the open window, hovering momentarily before each person at the table to drop off a plate, quickly followed by an assortment of knives, forks and spoons, rounded out by about a dozen goblets which dropped themselves onto the table with a collective clunk.  
  
"Tuck in, everyone," said Mr. Weasley, reaching for the bowl of egg salad before him.  
  
They all started partaking in the myriad foodstuffs scattered about the table as Mrs. Weasley sent a large pitcher around with a flick of her wand, explaining to a curious Hermione that it was a particularly successful batch of her seasonal currant wine, to which the Gryffindor Prefect quickly acquiesced. Upon the pitcher moving over to Luna, however, the young Ravenclaw declined the proffered drink by turning her goblet upside down.  
  
"None for me, but thank you," she said serenely. "I don't react very well to wine."  
  
"Oh, but you must drink something, dear," insisted Molly. "What about some fresh apple cider? No? How about some pumpkin juice? Or raspberry coulis? Or maybe some wild cherry juice __ "  
  
The goblet was flipped back up. "That sounds nice," said Luna. "Cherries help spur the imagination, you know."  
  
"Like she needs it," whispered Ron to Harry, as he grabbed a drumstick from the basket before them.  
  
Luna looked up from her filling goblet and stared at Ron.  
  
"Oh, cripes," he muttered under his breath, "here we go..."  
  
"I didn't know you were allergic to wine," commented Ginny while dropping some crab patties onto her plate.  
  
"Oh, I'm not allergic," answered Luna while keeping her unbinking gaze fixed upon Ron, who'd taken to staring intently into his plate as he ate, the tips of his ears reddening. "I only tried it once, but Daddy said it made me behave rather oddly..."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth and seemed about to say something, but after a moment's hesitation seemed to change her mind with some difficulty, sighing instead and dissecting some sole cutlets in her plate.  
  
Harry thought he glimpsed Fred and George glance at each other ever so briefly. He wondered if twins had some way of subconscious communication __ no words had been uttered, yet he had the definite impression that they'd exchanged some subtle understanding. Fred dropped his spoon on the ground and bent over to pick it up. George coughed loudly, making Ron jump.  
  
"Blimey, aren't you on edge!" laughed Charlie, "What's wrong, little bro?"  
  
"Nuttin'," muttered Ron darkly, his ears turning redder than ever.  
  
"Yeah, right," said Charlie, clearly amused by his younger brother's discomfort. He turned to his father at the head of the table. "Where's Bill by the way? Wasn't he supposed to be here by now?"  
  
Mr. Weasley nodded and swallowed his salad before answering. "Had a stopover in France," he said. "Helping his girlfriend pick up a few things before coming over, and all that. He said he'd be here by tomorrow evening."  
  
"Oy," said Charlie, "that's that Fleur girl, right? Can't wait to get a look at her...part Veela, isn't she?"  
  
"Yeh," said Ron, "strange when you think about it though, isn't it? Part_Veela...how weird is that?"  
  
"Well I think a mixed heritage is quite lovely," announced Luna. "It gives a rather unique insight, doesn't it?"  
  
"Eh...if you say so," said Ron in confusion, glancing across the table at Hermione, who Harry noticed had abruptly stopped spooning up her soup for a moment, a pensive frown on her face.  
  
The dinner proceeded well enough, Harry being quietly thankful that no one had brought up the subject of Sirius or Voldemort, or anything even remotely related to the recent events at the Ministry. In fact, the normal topics of conversation were being studiously avoided, instead focusing on the current standings in the British Quidditch League, the difficulties inherent in dragon training, and the favorite habitats of the Crumple_Horned Snorkack, to name but a few. Harry had been surprised to hear that Ginny had decided to relinquish her position as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team; though she stated her preference for the Chaser's position, Harry had the distinct impression she was doing this for his benefit. Of course, she'd already told him that the previous semester, but that was before...well, before a lot of things. In truth, Harry for the first time in five years did not look forwards to the new Quidditch season. In fact, he hadn't thought about it all summer, and truth be told, he really didn't know if he would want to ever return to the sport which had brought him so much enjoyment in the past. His heart, unlike other years, just wasn't in it. But he muttered a muted thanks at the table...this wasn't the time to discuss his misgivings.  
  
"Ohh, a cumquat," said Luna some time later as she gazed at Harry.  
  
Harry blinked and glanced down at his plate. He wasn't sure what a cumquat looked like, but he was fairly certain he hadn't picked one from the myriad foodstuffs scattered around the table; he could readily identify everything before him.  
  
"Eh? Mum, we got cumquats?" asked Ron, looking around the table.  
  
"No, we don't," answered Molly. "Unless...Charlie, did you bring – "  
  
"No, not me," answered the elder Weasley brother, as he too had taken to scanning the table for the elusive fruit.  
  
Harry looked back up at Luna. She was staring quite intently at him, not his plate.  
  
"Where did you see it?" he asked.  
  
Luna's eyes widened precipitously.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It spoke," said Luna, sounding strangely awe_struck. She leaned close to Ginny. "Did you hear that? There's some rather peculiar magic going on, Ginny – "  
  
"Hey, it's me!" said Harry, as everyone had by now abandoned their cumquat search to stare curiously at Luna. "It's Harry!"  
  
Luna looked at him uncertainly. "Oh...well, hello, Harry," she said carefully. She leaned closer to Ginny and whispered so loudly that she might as well have been speaking normally: "Did you hear? He's been polymorphed...he doesn't seem aware of it though..."  
  
Ginny looked to Harry then back to Luna. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"So," interrupted Charlie, "Luna, right? I guess you're in Ginny's year, then?"  
  
Luna turned her silvery gaze upon him, as though only noticing him for the first time.  
  
"Hello," she said.  
  
"Er...hi..."  
  
"Yeah, she is," replied Ginny, looking at her friend with concern. "Luna, you all right?"  
  
The young Ravenclaw nodded, her unwavering gaze fixed on Charlie.  
  
Harry glanced down at the end of the table where Fred and George were watching Luna surreptitiously. Down at the opposite end, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were observing the strange discussion with blank expressions, both having seemingly forgotten their food_strewn dishes.  
  
"So...you're in Gryffindor too, then, I assume?" asked Charlie, his subtle shifting and body language betraying the tiniest signs of discomfort under Luna's intense gaze. Luckily for him his ears weren't prone to reddening as were his brother's.  
  
Luna straightened up and assumed a highly dignified pose. "I'm in Clavenraw," she said proudly.  
  
"Eh? That's a new one on me..."  
  
Luna frowned and looked down to her plate, opening and closing her mouth as though wanting to say something and losing her train of thought at the last moment.  
  
She finally shrugged and turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"  
  
"I wasn't saying anything!" blustered Hermione, looking at Luna out of the corner of her eye as though the Ravenclaw was going quite mad.  
  
Ginny was looking at Luna with growing concern. She reached out and put her hand on the Ravenclaw's forehead.  
  
"I'm fine!" insisted Luna. "Oh, but you do have cold hands, Ginny – you know, if you kept broccoli in your socks – "  
  
"There's no fever," said Ginny, drawing back and looking to her mother helplessly.  
  
Luna snatched up a pickle and began sucking on it lengthwise.  
  
"Luna, are you sure you're feeling all right?" asked Ginny.  
  
"Never better, why?" said Luna as though the question was altogether preposterous. She gazed over at Hermione's plate, grabbed her spoon and dropped a heap of pudding atop Hermione's olives.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"They were cold," said Luna aimlessly. "By the way, does anyone have any spare yarn? I really do need to make myself a new pair of mittens – "  
  
"Oh that's it! What's gotten into you?!" said Hermione angrily, throwing her napkin on the table and whipping around to face the Ravenclaw.  
  
"Well, Mrs. Weasley's cooking, of course," said Luna, waving a hand at the cluttered table. "By the way, Mrs. Weasley, your pearl onions are exquisite – *hic* – oops...oh, cherries – "  
  
She grabbed her goblet tightly with both hands as was her peculiar habit and proceeded to drink away merrily, her large silver eyes peering out at Harry from over the rim.  
  
"Is she always like that?" whispered Charlie, leaning close and covering his mouth with one hand.  
  
Harry shook his head. Luna was, well, different, certainly, but this was definitely abnormal behaviour even for her.  
  
Ginny snatched the goblet away from her.  
  
"Hey! I wasn't done!" protested Luna as Ginny sniffed the contents of the goblet, her eyes widening.  
  
"This is wine!!" exclaimed Ginny. "How did – "  
  
She snapped her head over to where the twins were sitting at the end of the table.  
  
"You two!!"  
  
It was at that moment that Fred and George finally burst out into hysterics, George hitting his head against the table and Fred falling over backwards into the garden.  
  
Ginny looked furious, though at the moment she had her hands quite full keeping the goblet away from Luna, who was making a determined effort to get it back.  
  
"Gimme!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
Molly Weasley had already risen from her place and had made her way over to the twins, grabbing each by the ear.  
  
"OW!" cried Fred, scrambling up from the ground.  
  
"Cripes, Mother, that smarts!" complained George.  
  
But Molly was unmoved. "IN THE HOUSE!" she barked, her face red with anger as she led the now writhing twins away.  
  
"Give!" said Luna, trying to reach past Ginny, determined to retrieve her goblet. Ginny finally struggled to her feet and climbed up on the bench, holding the goblet as high over her head.  
  
Luna was jumping up repeatedly with arms outstretched, her long hair flouncing excitedly. "Gimme gimme gimme!"  
  
"You've had enough!" exclaimed Ginny, standing on tiptoes to avoid Luna's grasp. "Crickey, Hermione, can you lend a hand – "  
  
"Me??" asked Hermione, looking aghast.  
  
"Oh for – never mind!" snapped Ginny, spinning around and throwing the goblet's contents into the garden. Luna immediately stopped jumping and looked to Ginny in shock.  
  
"You spilled my cherry juice!" she said hurtfully.  
  
Harry heard the door slam in back of the house, quickly followed by some muffled yelling. He was intensely grateful he wasn't one of the Weasley twins at the moment.  
  
"I didn't spill it, I threw it away," flustered Ginny, stepping down from the bench, "and it wasn't cherry juice – "  
  
But Luna was already scanning the table, quickly spotting a pitcher and moving for it.  
  
But Ginny had anticipated correctly, and was able to snatch the pitcher away at the last moment.  
  
"Hey! *Hic* – oops..."  
  
"The only thing you're drinking tonight is coffee!" said Ginny, throwing the pitcher's contents off into the garden as with the goblet before.  
  
"Well, that was rather rude," said Luna. She turned and plopped down abruptly onto the bench, crossed her arms and pouted, staring angrily at her plate, her cheeks flushed. Hermione quietly shifted her plate out of easy reach.  
  
Harry noticed Mr. Weasley's shoulders were trembling slightly as he hid his mouth behind clasped hands.  
  
"Well, I think we should – DAD!" blurted Ginny in frustration. "You're not helping!"  
  
As Mr. Weasley drew off, laughing, to the house to make some coffee, Harry had the distinct impression that this was going to be a decidedly interesting summer, after all... 


	2. 2

Harry slowly folded the letter and stuffed it in his pajamas' pocket. He sank back in the chair, staring at the flickering candles on the small end table before him as though they might answer all his desperate questions. But of course, they could barely light on the table they were perched on; illuminating his soul was quite beyond them.

He'd been dreading the reading of Remus' letter for days. Putting it off only delayed the inevitable, however, and so Harry had finally dragged himself from bed and made his way downstairs to the Burrow's cluttered family room for some privacy. Even though Ron and the twins were quietly dozing upstairs, Harry did not feel up to reading the letter in their presence, asleep or no. He wanted to be alone.

He sighed as he pondered how to respond to Remus' letter. The last thing he needed was one more person trying to draw his feelings out into the open. Why couldn't anyone understand that? He didn't want to talk about Sirius, least of all with those who knew him best. He could see the loss in their faces, too. A loss that had been Harry's doing...

He looked around him, the flickering candles casting soft shadows around the family room. He saw peering out of the shadows, pictures of every Weasley – even Percy – up on the walls and on the mantlepiece. A dull ache ran through him – would _he_ ever have such a family to call his own? Would he even want one, assuming he survived the now inevitable conflict with Voldemort? He felt akin to an empty shell now; how would he feel then, knowing he'd just become a murderer?

He found himself wondering if losing that final battle might not be the preferable alternative...but then...the consequences to his friends if he failed...

A shadow moved on the wall. He froze in his seat. His wand was upstairs – 

"Harry?"

He half jumped from his chair and snapped his head around. Ginny was standing in the family room's entrance behind him, clad in her bedtime robe, carrying a cup of milk and a small plate of cookies in hand; she'd obviously just raided the kitchen.

"Oh...hi," said Harry, a bit embarrassed at having reacted so sharply. He slowly settled himself back into the chair.

"I saw the candles," said Ginny, coming around to the front of the chair and adopting the look of concern that Harry was all too familiar with. "You okay? I thought you were in bed by now."

"Yeah," said Harry wearily, "just couldn't sleep, that's all."

Ginny bit her lip and watched him for several moments, her body language indicating an uncertainty about whether to leave him be or try and talk to him. Harry hoped for the former. He stared into the dark fireplace in the hopes she would recognize his reticence.

He saw his wishes evaporate as Ginny sat down in the chair next to his.

"You've been really quiet, Harry," she said carefully, as though her words were performing an emotional high_wire act. "You hardly said a word at dinner..."

Harry took a deep breath. What was there to say?

"You know, if you'd like to talk – "

This was going into unpleasant territory. Harry decided to quickly shift the subject. "So, um, how's Luna doing?"

Ginny's shoulders sagged slightly, though she gave no other outward sign of disappointment at having been rebuffed.

"Oh...well, she's sleeping now, finally," said Ginny, looking to the staircase leading up to the bedrooms behind Harry. "Hard to believe she only had half a glass of wine for all that. You'd think she'd gorged herself on Mum's whole stock." 

Harry smiled inwardly. Much as he wished Luna hadn't been the subject of a prank, he had to admit her reactions had been...unusual, to say the least.

There followed an awkward silence. Ginny was gazing at her plate and Harry was trying his best to dissuade further conversation by continuing to stare into the dark hearth.

It was Ginny who finally ventured to break the silence. "So...like a cookie?"

She held out her plate to him.

"No, thanks," said Harry. The sight of Ginny's pained expression made him wish he'd taken one, if only to oblige her.

He tried to make up for it. "Um...it's nice that you invited her. Luna I mean," he said. "I didn't realize she was coming till yesterday."

To Harry's surprise, Ginny looked intensely relieved. "I'm so glad to hear that," she said, putting her plate on the table and leaning forward. "Ron practically threw a fit when I told him I'd asked her, but it's not like I expected any different anyway. But blast it, Harry, Luna and Hermione are going to get along even if I have to lock them upstairs for the rest of the summer!"

"How would they eat?" asked Harry instinctively.

Ginny blinked. "I...well, I'd send some food up with Pig, I guess, but I'm hoping it won't come to that. I'm just tired of every conversation between them turning into an argument, you know? '_Snorkack_' this, '_It doesn't exist_' that, and on and on. And they have more in common than they think too – they're both stubborn as mules!"

Harry smiled. For all of Luna's serenity and carefree disposition, she'd been quite adamant and unyielding whenever Hermione had dared challenge her beliefs.

"I didn't realize this was a project of yours," said Harry. "Are you going to try that with Ron too?"

Ginny gave a dismissive wave of her hand and rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's hopeless," she said in resignation. "At least Hermione's trying, a little. But I don't think he'll ever even give Luna a chance. It really bugs me too, you wouldn't believe. Anyway..."

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "Harry," she said slowly, "I was going to talk to you about this tomorrow, but since you're here – "

Harry held his breath as he stiffened in reflex. 

" – you are planning to get back on the Quidditch team aren't you?" asked Ginny carefully. "You didn't say much about it at dinner."

Harry opened his mouth. He hadn't expected that topic to come up.

"I...I don't know, Ginny," he said finally. "It's not really a priority with me right now."

"Well...I think it would do you good," said Ginny hopefully. "It'll help take your mind off things – "

"I don't _want_ to take my mind off things," countered Harry. 

"Why?" asked Ginny, "You can't let that hold you down forever, Harry. You still have your own life – "

"Don't remind me."

Ginny frowned. "Don't talk that way. It'll do you good to get out on the pitch again. Anyway, the Seeker's position's yours, like I said. Gryffindor needs you – "

"Stop pushing me!" exclaimed Harry, his temper rising. He wasn't in a mood to be discussing such trivialities, or anything else, for that matter. Couldn't she see that?

"I'm not!" protested Ginny, "_You're_ the one who's pushing, Harry, not me."

"Wha – " Harry stared at her, mouth agape.

"You've been pushing everyone away ever since Sirius died," explained Ginny. "Ron, Hermione, me, mum – "

"No I haven't," Harry lied, very uncomfortably. But he had no intention of going into this now.

"Oh, come on," countered Ginny, "we're not idiots, Harry. You're practically turning into a hermit! Why won't you talk – "

"Because I don't want to!" snapped Harry, his voice rising with his irritation. "I don't have to explain anything, to you or anybody! I didn't even want to come here! I only came because your folks wouldn't stop pestering me, so leave me alone!!"

Ginny immediately dropped her gaze to her knees, her face reddening furiously as she pursed her lips.

She shot up from the chair a moment later and grabbed her plate of cookies. "We'll talk more in the morning, Harry, when you've cooled – "

"No we won't!" stated Harry fiercely. "Not about that!"

Ginny clenched her mouth shut tightly as her face adopted a hue very near to her hair's. She bolted for the stairs and made a last second grab for her glass, knocking it over in her haste, the milk spilling over onto the floor.

"Oh for – "

She bent down and retrieved the glass without casting another glance at Harry. She stared at the milky puddle and seemed to fight with herself for a moment before finally drawing off upstairs, leaving the spill on the floor.

*   *   *

A fresh breeze came up, tousling Harry's hair. The evening's setting sun was casting long shadows across the dry, windswept grasses. Harry watched with apprehension one such shadow creep closer, the darkening blades of grass approaching his feet as he lay with his back against the Weasley's old wooden shed behind the house.

He raised his head up from his crossed arms to see who was approaching.

Ron stood before him, his Cleansweep Eleven slung over his shoulder, his other hand holding Harry's Firebolt parallel to the ground. Ginny stood behind him and slightly to one side, her own broom in hand and looking at Harry rather cautiously.

"We're going off for some practice, mate," said Ron. "Here's your broom. We're short a Chaser, though, but since there's no Snitch anyway – "

"Better count me out," said Harry, "I don't feel much up to it." He feared that getting involved in a Quidditch game now, even a practice, would only encourage Ginny to try even harder to convince him to return to the Seeker's position, a frustration he hardly needed.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron, thrusting the Firebolt closer. "It's not a serious match or anything. Just for fun, is all. And we can't play without another Chaser, I mean who's going to pass – "

"Why don't you ask Charlie?" suggested Harry. "He can use the Firebolt if he doesn't have a broom."

"Nah, he's talkin' business with Dad," said Ron, nodding towards the house.

"Well, try Hermione, then, I don't know – "

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding? She can barely keep from falling off a broom when it's hovering, never mind playing Quidditch, you know that. Now c'mon, you've been sitting there all afternoon. Don't you want to stretch your legs at least?"

"Good idea," said Harry, pushing off the ground and getting to his feet. "See you guys later."

With that, he turned around and left a stunned Ron behind him as he walked off in the opposite direction, circling around the burrow and heading for the hill overlooking the homestead.

He'd just rounded the far corner when he came face to face with Hermione, who very nearly bumped into him in her haste.

"Oh! Harry, good, I was just going to find you," she said, flipping through a small bunch of envelopes in her hand and drawing out one with his name on it. "Here, they're the test results for our O.W.L.s; they just arrived a few minutes ago."

"Thanks," said Harry, stuffing the envelope in his back pocket. He started to move off again when Hermione spoke.

"Hey, wait – aren't you going to open it?" she asked, clearly curious. "You know, it could affect which subjects you opt for next year, depending on which O.W.L.s you get, Harry. Not to mention the books we have to – "

Harry drew the envelope from his pocket and handed it back to her. "Well, you have a look, then," he said. "O.W.L.s are the last thing on my mind right now."

Hermione opened her mouth just as Harry turned away and headed off towards the hill in the distance.

He'd managed perhaps a dozen strides when Hermione caught up with him and tugged on his sleeve.

"Harry, wait," she pleaded as he reluctantly came to a stop. She circled round to face him, looking rather worried.

"What _is_ on your mind, exactly?" she asked. "You've been so quiet lately, Harry, I'm worried – "

"Not about the right thing," replied Harry darkly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," said Harry quickly. He hadn't intended to embark on this conversation. "Look, I'm just going for a walk, all right?"

"But...Harry," said Hermione gently as she took a step closer, "you can't keep everything bottled up inside like this...if Professor Dumbledore were – "

"Don't talk to me about Dumbledore!" snapped Harry angrily.

Hermione looked pleadingly to Harry, her brown eyes watering.  "I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to ask...what happened between you two?" she asked. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but how can I understand what you're going through if you won't say...please tell me..."

For a moment, Harry almost succumbed to her request. If there was anyone he'd always been able to confide in, it was certainly Hermione. But, no, he couldn't afford to be reckless again, not after what happened to Sirius.

"I can't," he finally said hoarsely. "Not now – not until – "

"But _why??_" asked Hermione desperately, close to tears. "Harry, I'm right here, we can talk – "

"You might be talking to Voldemort for all you know," said Harry, leaving a shocked Hermione standing flatfooted as he marched off up the hill. His insides ached; Hermione trying so hard to reach out to him was almost more than he could bear. But he had no choice, really. Not if he wished to protect her from harm. And that he was determined to do, no matter how difficult it might be.

He reached the top of the hill and spied the old apple tree he'd once climbed a couple of years before. He dropped down heavily and leaned his back against the trunk, closed his eyes and tried to imagine a world where there was no Voldemort, no Death Eaters, no Lestranges...

And Sirius was still around...or for that matter, his parents.

Yet, the doubts that had surfaced the previous year still lingered in his thoughts. He still recalled quite vividly a young Severus Snape hanging there, upside down – 

Both Sirius and Remus had tried to dissuade Harry's doubts about those events. But, he'd witnessed them with his own eyes. Sirius had stated that they were at 'that age', and yet, Harry was at 'that age' too, and _he'd_ never had the urge to go and play cruel pranks on others.

He felt something brush up against him. He snapped his eyes open in alarm – 

Luna sat down next to him with her back against the tree. He hadn't even heard her approach...

Harry held his breath. Wasn't there _anyplace_ he could go without someone trying to talk to him??

To his surprise, Luna merely gazed at him for a moment before drawing out the latest copy of _The Quibbler_. She carefully unfolded the paper across her lap, flipped a few pages ahead and began to read contentedly without even a simple 'hello'.

_Well_, thought Harry, _at least she's trying to get me to talk_.

Still, though, he was in no mood for company. And, she was sitting unusually close, to boot; shoulder to shoulder, in fact. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, really. But, he really wanted to be alone right now.

"Um...look," he said as gently as he felt able, "this tree is kinda small for two people, so..."

"Yes, it is," she said vaguely, her gaze not deviating from a lengthy article titled _'Ministry Denies Escaped Dragons Cover_Up: Fact or Fiction?'._ "You can stay, though. I don't mind."

Harry gaped at her. Surely she was joking?

Several uneventful minutes told him otherwise. Harry sighed. He briefly considered going elsewhere, but something made him hesitate. Would she think he was shunning her like so many others did? No, he wouldn't do that to her...

Besides, she wasn't pestering him, really. She was just sitting there, reading quietly.

Well, maybe not so quietly, with her softly humming 'Weasley is Our King' as she serenely perused her father's publication, but it wasn't bothering him particularly. In fact, her dreamy voice _did_ have a decidedly pleasing melodic quality, now that he thought about it...

He decided at last to just wait it out. It would be dark soon, after all, and Luna would have to go inside for lack of light. Or, maybe she was afraid of the dark.

_No_, he thought, _scratch that_. She'd shown no fear of Death Eaters after all, so Harry very much doubted she'd be frightened of something so mundane as simple darkness.

He waited. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that whenever Luna finished a section of the paper she'd gaze over at him while flipping the page over. Nevertheless she always returned to her reading without uttering so much as a word.

Harry slowly allowed himself to relax and closed his eyes. Actually, Luna's soft humming combined with the gentle rustling of the paper to be rather soothing, he discovered. Every once in a while the dry evening breeze would pick up and he would feel a few long strands of Luna's hair brush up against his cheek and tickle his nose. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant sensation.

Soft, gentle humming – 

A page lightly turning – 

A light, dry breeze, and the delicate brushing of long strands of hair – 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd fallen asleep, but he knew it had to have been a good amount of time, his eyes popping open to the surrounding darkness – no, wait, there was a soft glow coming from somewhere above. Where was – 

He was crumpled low to the ground, his cheek resting up against a cotton fabric overlayed with long, willowy strands of hair – 

He abruptly recalled where he was. He sat bolt upright and looked at Luna, who was still reading her paper, though with her illuminated wand tucked behind her ear to make up for the prevailing darkness. He's somehow fallen asleep and had been resting his head against her shoulder.

"Er...um...s-sorry about that," he stammered.

Luna looked over at him serenely. "For what?" 

"Well...for...um, never mind," he said hastily. He scrambled to his feet. "It's, er, getting late...I think I'll head back..."

She looked up at him. "All right," she said. "Better light your wand on the way back, though. The Bollywoggles have really dug a lot of holes along the slope. You wouldn't want to break a leg."

"Um, no, I wouldn't," agreed Harry. He fumbled for his wand and nearly dropped it in his haste.

"_Nox_," he voiced. 

"Actually, I think _Lumos_ would do better," suggested Luna helpfully.

"Oh...yeah...thanks..._Lumos_."

He looked down to Luna, who had returned to her paper. "Um...aren't you coming back?"

She looked back up at him. "Oh, no," she said dreamily. "It's a quite pretty night to be outside, you know. I'll go back in later."

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, all right, if you're sure..."

She smiled up at him. "Watch your step on your way down, Harry."

"Yeah...thanks..."

He headed down the hill, watching for the holes Luna had mentioned, though he couldn't imagine how she could tell the difference between a gopher hole and one dug by these 'Bollywoggles' she'd mentioned, whatever they were.

He shook his head as he approached the Burrow. Luna hadn't seemed the slightest bit embarrassed at having Harry sleeping up against her like that. He wished he could be so resilient.

He stopped in his tracks. For the first time in weeks, he suddenly realized, he'd slept without having any nightmares. But then...he hadn't slept outside during all that time, either. Or leaning on someone's shoulder, for that matter.

_Strange..._

He resumed his march at a slow pace, hearing a rather boisterous Burrow beckoning before him. It only took him a moment to understand why when he walked through the swinging doors.

Ron was laying splayed out on one of the kitchen chairs, his worried mother dabbing a moistened cloth to his reddened forehead, as Ginny, the twins, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were huddled around. Everyone, save Ron, was arguing loudly.

"If you hadn't let go of the bloody club – "

"Me?? It was Charlie who – "

"Don't drag me into this! I only went to cheer you on – "

Harry looked at Ron in concern, who was trying his best to push away his mother's determined ministrations. "Cripes, Mum, that stuff burns!"

"Hold still! You don't want it swelling up now – "

"I'd rather have _that_ than third degree burns!"

Satisfied that Ron wasn't gravely injured, Harry headed up to the bedroom and extinguished his wand. He sat on the edge of the bed, yet he didn't feel all that tired. He supposed he could read, but – 

He glanced out the open window back towards the hill he'd just descended. He blinked.

He got up and leaned his head out. No, he wasn't imaging it.

Luna was gone.


	3. Summer at the Burrow, Chapter 3

Harry gazed out at the deserted hillside in confusion. He was sure the glow from Luna's wand would be visible even at this distance, but there was no sign...where was she??

He rested his elbows on the windowsill and leaned out further, gazing out at the surrounding countryside. There was a slight glow emanating from behind the ridgeline, where the village of Ottery St. Catchpole lay several miles away. The area around the Burrow itself was by now quite dark, however, and there was no sign of a glowing wand anywhere in sight.

He drew back inside. She couldn't have made it back to the house already, he knew. Harry had only just arrived himself. A nagging concern began to grow within him.

Why did I leave her there?

He looked at his bed. He knew he would not gain a minute's sleep until he knew she was safe.

His apprehension grew. Why would she have left so suddenly? She'd seemed perfecty content to just sit there and read the night away, after all. Maybe she hadn't left of her own accord...

He briefly considered running downstairs and organizing a search party, but quickly decided against it. If there was something nefarious at work out there somewhere, he'd be dragging his friends into the line of fire once again. No, the only life he would imperil this day would be his own.

He straightened up and quickly made his decision. He would go out in search of Luna on his own.

He glanced at Hedwig's empty cage; she was still out hunting. He could use her eyes right about now, but he couldn't wait for her to return. Pigwidgeon's cage was likewise deserted.

He retrieved his wand from the nightstand and made his way downstairs, every step seeming to creak with  irritating clarity. Thankfully, the commotion in the kitchen had not abated, a series of arguments layering one atop the other providing ample auditory camouflage, enabling Harry to slink quietly past. He made his way through the family room and left the house through the back door.

He emerged into the cool night air and gazed at the sloping hill in the distance. There was nothing for it, he decided; it was as good a place as any to begin his search.

He lit his wand to avoid the Bollywoggle holes as he made his way back up the slope to the old apple tree, its gnarled branches splayed out as though acting as a lone sentinel atop the hillside. He knelt down at its base where he and Luna had been sitting just a short time before.

He sighed with relief. There were no torn grasses or gouges in the earth to indicate a struggle, and the absence of The Quibbler was further evidence she'd at least taken care to bring it along with her. Wherever that was, however, was still a mystery.

He stood up and looked around. There were no clues to guide him as to where she might have vanished, the only place he could safely rule out at the moment being the Burrow itself.

But she couldn't have walked very far in the few minutes that had elapsed. There were numerous clumps of trees scattered about the area, but none so thick as to conceal a glowing wand, in Harry's opinion. Might she have turned it off?

There was a fairsized forest on the far side of the hill, however, even though it seemed unlikely to him that anyone in their right mind would go wandering off there at this hour.

He considered calling out. He debated using the _Sonorus_ charm as an amplifier, though this was fraught with risk. While the Ministry turned a blind eye to underage wizards casting simple cantrips such as Lumos and Nox, other, more powerful spells might bring about some very unwanted attention. The last thing he wanted was another hearing at the Wizengamot!

He decided instead to concentrate his search to the nearby thickets; perhaps Luna had simply finished her reading and had gone off exploring. Why she would choose to do so in the dark, however, was something he would have to ask her.

He'd spent the better part of a half hour wandering from bush to thicket, without success. He found nothing larger than a quail for his trouble, which in fact had just about given him the fright of his life by waiting until Harry was almost on top of it before abruptly taking off in a frantic flutter of short but powerful wingbeats. Harry had staggered backwards and pointed his wand at his imaginary assailant for several moments before he realized he was facing off with an old fence post.

He paused for a moment to regain his senses, still breathing heavily. There was no place near the Burrow left to search. He'd seen a light emanating from inside the wooden shack behind the house, but a peek inside had revealed only Mr. Weasley enthusiastically dissecting an old electric stand mixer, with no Luna in sight.

He looked at the hill looming in the distance. Would Luna have wandered off into the woods beyond? It hardly seemed likely, but then standard logic did not seem to apply where the young Ravenclaw was concerned. There was only one way to find out for certain.

He hesitated...what if the Weasleys were to think he was missing, too? He should at least tell them something so they wouldn't go off searching for him.

He reopened the shed door. "Um...excuse me, Mr. Weasley?"

The redhaired patriarch turned around and beamed at him. "Blimey, Harry! Didn't hear you there. Come in, come in – "

"Er...well..."

Harry shuffled in a few steps. The workbench was littered with so many mechanical bits and pieces that there wasn't so much as a hand'sbreath of its wooden surface to be seen. One corner held at least a good half dozen battered old toasters. The walls and rafters were likewise cluttered with old housewares, some apparently in fair condition, others much less so, many having been reassembled less than successfully. Harry couldn't understand how anyone could have such a passion for things which he saw as so utterly mundane.

"Good to see you up and about there, Harry. Have a look at this, will you? It's amazing what Muggles come up with, isn't it?" said Mr Weasley with all the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. He held up a small electric motor that Harry assumed had once driven the mixer. "I'm telling you, Harry, the days where Muggles were at a hopeless disadvantage are fast drawing to an end, in my view. Did you know this thing can whip up a meringue almost as fast as one of Molly's charms can? I'd love to test it out myself, though, but we'd have to hook up the house to all that electrical grid stuff they've got going. Ministry wouldn't look too kindly on that though, I'm afraid. Fascinating stuff, electricity, isn't it?"

Harry forced a small smile. "Yeah, I suppose," he said rather unenthusiastically. He'd often seen Aunt Petunia use a mixer back at Privet Drive, and electricity was no more mysterious to him than the shoes on his own feet. He took a deep breath before pressing on: "I, er, just wanted to let somebody know, I'm going out for a walk, so I might not be back for awhile. Don't wait up."

Arthur Weasley's enthusiastic countenance was quickly replaced by one of concern. "At this hour, Harry? Everything all right?"

"Yeah," said Harry a bit too quickly, but he didn't want to get drawn into another conversation. "I just slept a lot today, so..."

He took a hesitant step backwards and opened the door.

"Well, if you're sure," said Mr. Weasley carefully. "Probably best if you didn't wander too far from the house, though. Dumbledore said – "

Harry's mood darkened. "No, I'll be fine," he said a bit tersely as he emerged once more into the darkness, the wooden door clanking shut behind him. He didn't like being rude to Arthur Weasley; he hadn't smothered Harry with the overwhelming concern Molly had, for which Harry had been silently thankful. Still, there was no denying he was just as worried as the rest of the Burrow's inhabitants, even if he didn't show it overtly.

Harry marched off to the top of the hill, past the apple tree and then slowly descended the gentle incline of the far slope, coming to stand before the looming treeline. He stared at the gap in the woods where a worn trail led within. He wondered – would Luna have entered through here? Somehow she didn't appear the type to follow a predefined path; she seemed to prefer blazing her own trails.

But Harry had never ventured into this forest before, and so decided it would be prudent to stay on the beaten path, at least for now.

He took a deep breath and trudged into the woods. While it was a clear and cloudless night with a brightly glowing moon, the leafy canopy ensured that the moonlight trickled down only in scattered bits, creating a speckled mosaic of silvery light that might have been lovely if Harry had been in a mind to appreciate it. As it was, the unfamiliar surroundings combined with Luna's unknown fate engendered a growing unease within him.

A minute later he berated himself. This wasn't the Forbidden Forest, here; these woods held none of the dangerous creatures which he'd encountered at Hogwarts, surely!

Still, he was completely unfamiliar with these woods. Could there nevertheless be unknown dangers lurking within? There was no way to be certain. The trees, at least, didn't seem to mind his presence, unlike their ominous cousins at Hogwarts.

A breeze picked up. A nearby hoot made him jump. He looked to the branches overhead but couldn't identify its source. He held his breath and waited for several moments. The hoot didn't repeat; in fact, there was silence except for the crickets and the leaves gently rustling in the breeze.

"Hedwig?"

No answer. He supposed it might be just a regular owl...at least, he hoped that's all it was.

He made his way deeper into the woods. The path was fast becoming quite overgrown, making it increasingly difficult to discern the trail from the natural forest floor. Clearly, few people had trekked this far into the backwoods. Still, he couldn't turn back now. At least he took solace in the fact he couldn't really get lost; he could always use his wand to point the way North if he became truly desperate.

Which would be the only way to orient himself really, as he glanced up at the stars overhead. He could barely identify the stellar constellations at the best of times; with the twinkling heavens heavily obscured by the treetops above, it would be nigh impossible.

His foot caught on something hard and unyielding and he stumbled forward, crashing to the ground and hitting his knee painfully, his wand falling from his grasp.

"Cripes," he muttered angrily before rolling over into a sitting position, gritting his teeth as he rubbed his throbbing knee. While painful, it didn't appear to be a severe injury, at least. He grabbed his wand and shook it free of leaves before crawling forward to inspect what had so brusquely caused his tumble.

It was a rock outcropping, sticking up from the forest floor and very inconveniently placed as it turned out, smack in the middle of the path. Or at least, where he'd imagined the path to be, as it was becoming quite difficult to discern. He made a mental note to remember this rock on the return trip, lest he should trip on it again. He pushed himself up, brushed off some leaves and twigs, and moved on.

And quickly came across a second outcrop, larger and longer than the first.

He crouched down and frowned, holding his wand close to the ground. This was no natural rock formation –

He traced his fingers along the worn stone. This had been the foundation of a wall, dating several centuries the looks of it. While mildly interesting, investigating an ancient habitation was not what he'd come here to do. He drew himself up.

And almost immediately came across several more stone ruins, one of which was a cracked and crumbling threetiered step, whilst another was a fairsized chunk of wall, running parallel to the path for a good dozen yards and reaching almost to chest height in places. Vines snaked up its sides all along. Whatever this had once been, it had obviously been abandoned ages ago, at the very least. He wondered if he should make mention of it to Hermione; perhaps she might have a theory of what might have once stood here. Or maybe the Weasleys, seeing as it wasn't terribly far from the Burrow. But then, neither Ron nor Ginny had ever made mention of it that Harry could recall.

A sound caught his ear. It was brief, lasting only a few seconds, but it sounded like a conversation somewhere off in the distance, muffled and rendered unintelligible by the rustling leaves, but definitely there –

Was it Luna? Who might she be talking to if it was? What if it was someone else entirely?

Harry extinguished his wand; until he identified the source, he didn't think it wise to give his presence away. He slowly walked off in the direction he'd heard the voices.

He'd wandered off the trail for only a minute or so when he gradually became aware of a soft melodic humming permeating the forest. Not loud at all, in fact he had to remain perfectly still in order to hear it, yet the cool night air appeared to carry the ethereal melody with a life all its own. Could it possibly be Luna? It sounded strangely beguiling, whatever it was...

Harry pressed on. He glimpsed a faint glow through the trees up ahead. He slowed his pace and quietened his footfalls. He slowly drew closer, coming to stand behind a stand of tall grasses and wildflowers. He drew a sharp breath – there was movement right ahead. He quickly crouched down behind the greenery and peered through the thin stalks at an astonishing sight.

There was a clearing before him; or rather, a small meadow, the scarcity of trees allowing plunging beams of silvery moonlight through to the forest floor, highlighting the gently floating flowery tufts being carried about the woods by the gentle breeze. In the treetops overhead, Harry could make out a good number of tiny, softly glowing lights fluttering about, gloworms he assumed, though he found it odd that the whole spectrum of the rainbow seemed represented in their number. The only gloworms he'd ever seen radiated a uniform, greenish hue.

Scattered around the meadow were several more overgrown ruins, one of which stood tall enough so that it still held a vaulted opening where a window might have once been, if glass even existed when this place was built.

What mostly drew his attention, however, was the sight of Luna, bathed in the glow of her stellar namesake, twirling around in slow, vague circles around the meadow, arms outstretched and with a look of serene bliss on her face. There was no longer any doubt – she _was_ the source of the melodic humming he'd heard.

But what was she doing, exactly? Her gentle humming was quite unlike 'Weasley Is Our King';  soft and exquisite, it sounded strangely celestial to his ears. And that odd dance –

The ethereal humming suddenly ceased. Luna was frozen in mid stride, her arms still held out parallel to the ground. Harry crouched lower behind the thicket. For a moment, he thought that even the crickets had ceased their rickety chirping.

Luna spun around abruptly, her long dirty blonde hair flying through the air and obscuring her face. As it settled back, Harry saw her large silvery eyes looking in his general direction, all pretense of song and dance now abandoned. Harry drew a sharp breath and tensed...had he made some sound? Stepped on a twig? He glanced up; the glowing lights were nowhere to be seen.

He looked back down at Luna; he was certain she couldn't see him, concealed as he was in the thickets. And yet –

Luna was standing absolutely still, save for one pale hand which was slowly drifting up towards the wand tucked behind her ear. Her delicate fingers hesitated for a moment –

Her gaze was now focused almost exactly on Harry's thicket. Harry held his breath and remained absolutely still.

Her hand slowly drifted back down to her side, wandless. she continued to stare at Harry's position, however, and so he didn't dare move, barely allowing himself the minor luxury of breathing again.

A thought occurred to him...why was he hiding, exactly? He'd come out here to find her, after all.

But then, he'd gotten the distinct impression he'd intruded on something...well, unexplainable, really. In fact, he really didn't know what to do at the moment, but suddenly popping out of the bushes and revealing his presence didn't seem to be the best choice. He decided to wait; surely Luna would leave soon. Perhaps he could follow her back at a discreet distance until he was satisfied she was safe.

Unfortunately, however, Luna wasn't cooperating with his plan. Ten minutes elapsed and his aching legs were berating him for his now obviously flawed strategy. Luna still hadn't moved, hadn't even blinked, in fact, by the looks of it, continuing to stare intently in his direction. Harry began to fidget. He couldn't stay in this position much longer –

Another ten minutes and his burning legs were screaming for surrender. Luna was standing as still as Godric Gryffindor's statue, her silvery eyes wide and unblinking. Harry silently cursed himself for getting himself into this predicament. He couldn't withdraw without being seen, but conversely, he couldn't remain in his current position either. Worse, Luna showed no signs of wanting to shift her gaze in another direction. It slowly began to dawn on Harry that she would wait as long as was necessary.

He couldn't keep still any longer. He shifted his right leg –

"Harry?"

Harry gasped. Luna's head was tilted slightly to one side, her first movement since she'd fixed her eyes upon him. Well, there was no use trying to conceal himself any longer...

He drew up slowly, his cramping knees throbbing painfully.

"Um...hi," said Harry sheepishly.

"Hello Harry," said Luna softly, "why are you hiding?"

"Er, I...I was just...well..."

He took a deep breath. "To tell you the truth, I'm not really sure myself..."

She slowly walked up to him. Harry noticed her hair was even more dishevelled than usual, and was strewn with several varieties of local wildflowers.

"Well, it is a nice night for a walk," she said, her dreamy voice holding no trace of displeasure at Harry's presence. She gazed back at him for a moment. "But you didn't come out here for that, I imagine..."

Harry shook his head. There was no use being coy about it now –

"I saw you were gone when I got to the house," he said. "I thought that, maybe...something might've happened..."

Luna's large misty eyes gazed at him curiously. "Oh. Well, you needn't have worried, Harry," she said casually. "It's quite safe here, actually. You just have to watch your step in places."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, rubbing his bruised knee, "I noticed."

He was intensely relieved to see Luna didn't seem at all upset; she smiled and drifted off towards an old stone wall that had crumbled to little more than waist height ages ago, judging from the vines and outgrowth around it. Harry circled around and looked back at the thicket he'd been hiding behind. It certainly appeared like an ideal hiding place to him.

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked.

Luna turned and stared at him blankly. "Your glasses were reflecting the moonlight," she said sagely, pointing to the Moon high above.

"Eh? You knew all the time?" exclaimed Harry.

"Well, I suspected," amended Luna. "But I was fairly certain though. I don't know many people who wear spectacles."

"Cripes, and here I was...how long were you going to wait?"

Luna smiled. Harry understood her unspoken answer.

He wandered around the meadow, taking in the scattered and overgrown ruins. "What is this place, anyway?"

"I'm not entirely certain, really," answered Luna after a moment's pause, "but it is nice, isn't it? It feels a bit familiar somehow."

Harry turned to her. "You've come here before?"

Luna wasn't looking at him. She'd moved off to one of the low lying ruins and was gently trailing several pale fingers along its worn and crumbling surface. She was silent for so long that Harry wondered if she'd even heard him.

"No," she said at last, looking strangely pensive, "but it is familiar..."

She suddenly turned back to Harry. "You didn't play Quidditch today."

Harry blinked. Luna could change directions so unexpectedly –

"Um...no..."

Luna nodded solemnly, continuing to gaze at him.

Harry's aching legs needed a rest. He sat down heavily on the old wall Luna had drifted off to earlier, rubbing his injured knee, Luna waiting a few moments before coming to join him. Once again she sat unusually close, although for some reason this didn't unsettle Harry, there being nothing at all forward about her manner. She reached down at her feet and picked out a tiny purple wildflower whose species Harry couldn't recognize.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" said Luna softly, pinching the stem and slowly turning the petals around.

Harry took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's nice...I just...I don't think I'll be getting back to Quidditch this year," he said morosely, in response to her earlier statement. "I've got too many things on my mind..."

Luna turned to gaze at him. Harry kept his eyes firmly rivetted on the tips of his battered trainers.

"You're worried he can still see through you," voiced Luna softly. "That Voldemort fellow, I mean?"

Harry tensed. How had she – well, probably through Ginny...

"I...I think about it, yeah..."

Luna regarded him serenely, as though this possibility didn't worry her in the least.

"You're worried you might lose your friends," she suddenly voiced. "That's why you're pushing them away."

Harry's jaw dropped. She hadn't asked it as a question, she'd stated it simply as an understood fact.

"But...I'm not..."

Luna smiled and went back to observing her flower.

Harry looked at her. She seemed so calm, so serene –

The moonlight was bathing her in a glow that made her seem oddly ethereal, almost ghostlike, really, although for all that infinitely more tangible.

He decided to take a chance. She already seemed to understand his worries, but she couldn't possibly fathom the reasons behind it. He hadn't spoken of his fears to anyone, not even Ron and Hermione, but...

"Luna," he began hesitantly, "I learned something last year...about what's going to happen...or what has to happen..."

She turned to look at him, her silvery eyes catching the moonlight in such a way that startled Harry. He'd never really noticed before, but –

He forced the thought from his mind. "...I'm going...or he's going...well, one of us has to...it's...I don't know if..."

He drifted off. He wasn't making much sense, but he didn't know how to go into details without revealing the Prophecy.

"It's you or him," said Luna softly.

"Er...yeah," confirmed Harry, stunned. "You...you knew?"

"Well, I gathered," she said. "Something was troubling you, Harry, and it was more than your Godfather."

Harry felt naked before those misty eyes; it was as though they could peer right into his heart. And given how she seemed to understand his anxieties, he wondered if they actually could...

"Well, you're right," said Harry at last. "I'm stuck in this thing. Either I get killed and the wizarding world falls to him or I have to become a murderer. No one else can do it...I didn't ask for any of this..."

He felt his emotions threatening to bubble up to the surface. "Sometimes I wish that letter from Hogwarts had never arrived...or that...or that when..."

Harry swallowed hard and fell silent. He didn't want to burst into tears here...

Luna frowned slightly for a moment before turning her gaze to the grasses and wildflowers at her feet. Both were quiet for a time, Harry staring at the ground and taking at least a certain consolation that there was someone aside from Dumbledore who now understood his fate.

Luna, on the other hand, was apparently in another world and delicately picking out a few select blossoms from the grasses. Not that Harry minded, really. In fact, it was strangely comforting to see Luna just being, well, _Luna_, as though there was no looming Apocalyptic conflict on the distant horizon. Or at least, he hoped it was distant.

It was the young Ravenclaw who eventually broke the silence. "Do you believe in fate, Harry?" she asked dreamily, her eyes still focused on the pink and lavender petals twirling slowly between her fingers.

Harry blinked. He hadn't expected that question.

"Um, well, I guess," he said finally. "I mean, I suppose I do. But then, I don't really have much choice anyway." He thought for a moment. "Do you?"

She looked at him.

"No Harry, I don't," she said softly, with a conviction that shocked him as much as her answer.

"Wha – you??" blurted Harry incredulously.

Luna nodded with a small smile.

"But...I thought you...why not??" asked Harry, hardy believing his ears. If he'd had to come up with a list of people who would believe in such a thing as fate, Luna's name would have figured at the very top.

Luna gazed at him, and for a moment her dreamy countenance was conspicuously absent. "People say fate is our future, Harry, but it isn't really. It might be that way if life were a path we all follow, but then, you and I both know it's not."

"Er...it isn't?"

Luna shook her head. "Life is a field, Harry, not a path," she said, waving her hand around them as though to illustrate her point. "You can go in a thousand different directions, and experience a different adventure each time. No," she said suddenly looking very serious, "fate only exists in people's minds, Harry."

They stared at each other. Harry could scarcely believe what he was hearing.

"But...the Prophecy..."

A chill went down his spine. Had he revealed too much?

Luna smiled slightly. "Prophecies can be wrong, you know," she said, as though such things were everyday objects. "I've seen one disproven."

Harry was even more stunned at this latest revelation. "You have? How?"

"You remember all those little globes at the Department of Mysteries?" Seeing Harry nod in the affirmative, Luna pressed on. "Well, as it turns out, a great many witches and wizards have had a Prophecy foretold about them. Sometimes more than one, actually. Anyway, there was one for me too, years ago, though it never came to pass."

Harry was frankly astounded. While it was true there had been thousands of Prophecies at the Ministry, perhaps even tens of thousands, it had never occurred to him that some might well involve people he knew.

"It didn't?" he asked, honestly intrigued.

Luna shook her head. "Mine said that I would perish in a terrible accident before my seventh birthday," she said casually. "I only found out about it after Mum died, though."

"...wow...I didn't know..."

Luna smiled. "It did explain why Mum hardly ever let me out of her sight after my sixth birthday," she said serenely. "But staying cooped up in the house was quite bothersome, as you might imagine, so I sometimes managed to sneak out."

Harry chuckled. "Well, I know how that feels," he said. "So there was never any 'terrible accident', then?"

"Oh, no, there was," corrected Luna. "One day, it was in October, I was curious to see if I could fly, you know, and so I found a lovely place to try..."

"Oh," said Harry seriously. "So...you fell?"

Luna smiled dreamily. "It was quite pleasurable at first, actually."

"Did it hurt much?"

Luna shook her head.

"It didn't?" asked Harry, confused. "I thought it was pretty bad, by the sound of it."

"No," aired Luna, holding out her hand as a small pale grey moth fluttered by. "It wasn't the fall that hurt, you know, it was the sudden stop at the end."

She leaned close to Harry and whispered furtively. "That part wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the beginning, actually."

"I can imagine," said Harry. "You must've gotten pretty banged up."

"Yes, it was quite ghastly," she said simply, as though discussing the weather. "I broke thirtytwo bones."

Harry gaped at her as the tiny moth gently landed on the back of her moonlit hand. "Cripes," he said softly, "that _was_ bad..."

"Yes," said Luna, smiling at her hand's newfound passenger, "I very nearly died, but I pulled through quite well, in the end."

"All that to see if you could fly?" asked Harry, feeling a renewed sense of empathy for the girl sitting beside him.

Luna nodded, her dreamy gaze still fixed on the moth splayed wingsdown on the back of her hand. she was silent for several long moments before sighing softly, slowly turning her hand upsidedown. The moth fluttered off into the darkness.

She turned her gaze back to Harry. "But, I did make it to my seventh birthday after all, despite what the Prophecy said. That's how I came to see fate for what it is, Harry."

Harry considered this carefully, hardly daring to hope. Might the Prophecy Dumbledore recounted also be undone?

"But...you still had the accident," said Harry carefully, "so it was right about that."

Luna smiled. "Yes, but that was the result of a choice _I_ made, Harry," she said wistfully. "Every choice we make sends us off in a different direction. I could just have easily not jumped; I could have gone off collecting blackberries in the bushes behind the house. But then, I _was_ the curious sort, you know. I once overheard Mum telling Dad, how she worried my curiosity would be the end of me.  But then...Mum was very curious too."

Harry recalled their conversation at the end of the previous school year, how Luna's mother had perished while conducting some experiment, undoubtedly due to her own desire to explore. He found himself wishing in earnest that Luna wouldn't encounter the same...

...fate.

A thought occurred to him. "Can I ask you something?"

Luna looked at him. "You just did."

Harry blinked. "Oh...well, can I ask you something else?"

Luna stared at him blankly. "You just did that, too."

"Er...yeah...well then, can I ask you," Harry thought carefully, "_two_ more questions?"

"Sure Harry," replied Luna, smiling. "But you don't have to ask permission, you know. You can always pose a question to me."

"Thanks," said Harry, wondering if he'd just been playfully teased. "Have you ever told Trelawney about your...opinion about fate?"

"Hmm? oh, yes," said Luna tapping the ends of her carpet slippers together, "several times, in fact. But I don't think she wants to hear that sort of thing."

"No kidding...Trelawney must really like _you!_" he blurted.

Luna smiled, and for a moment Harry though he caught a decidedly mischievous glint in her large silver eyes.

"Not especially, I don't think," she voiced airily. "But she does serve exquisite tea."

Harry chuckled. "She always seems happiest when I predict my own doom. If I want a good score, I just have to say that I'll die in some crazy set of circumstances, like getting trampled by a herd of giant sloths or something."

The still night air was abruptly shattered by Luna's explosion of childlike laughter, the sound reverberating through the forest. Harry jumped, startled at the sudden change in the girl's demeanour, having gone from utter serenity to raucous hilarity in a split second.

"Oh, Harry," she said breathlessly after she'd managed to regain a slight semblance of selfcontrol, her large silvery eyes glittering with tears of laughter, "you can't trampled by  sloths! They're _slow!!_"

"Racing sloths," amended Harry, bringing about a renewed shriek of mirth from Luna, who slowly toppled off the stone ruin, falling on her back in the grasses, still clutching her sides.

"Hey! You okay?" asked Harry, though the young Ravenclaw's uninterrupted flow of giggles quickly alleviated his concern.

"Racing...s...s..._sloths!!_" giggled Luna.

Harry was severely tempted to laugh right along. For some strange reason, he found himself actually enjoying spending time with Luna, who he really didn't know all that well; but then, there was something so unobtrusive about the girl...

When Luna finally fell silent some time later, still flat on her back and staring at the stars, Harry suddenly recalled the resemblance of the ruins to the mysterious Veil back at the Department of Mysteries. Its ancient, worn granite surface was quite similar to the stone structures around him.

"How old is this place, anyway?" he mused out loud, rubbing his hand along the rough stonework he was sitting on.

He looked around. Several ruins showed sings of having been shattered, as opposed to simply having decayed through the centuries. "I wonder who lived here...or what happened..."

"Rabbits," voiced Luna from the grasses.

Harry looked at her. "Rabbits?"

Luna slowly drew herself up into a sitting position. "Tusked War Rabbits, actually," she said, waving at the ruins around her. "There's a lot of evidence..."

"Tusked War Rabbits??" exclaimed Harry.

Luna nodded. She gracefully got to her feet and proceeded to a lowlying chuck of wall before dropping down to her knees.

"See? Here's  a clue..."

Harry got up and joined her. She took his hand and ran it along a series of parallel grooves in the stone.

"Can you feel that? They're tusk marks," said Luna, though how tusks could possibly gouge grooves into stone was a mystery to Harry.

"Um..."

Luna moved his hand to another part of the stonework, which had a much rougher texture.

"And this," she said serenely, "is where they chewed on the house."

"Chew??" said Harry. "How can something with big tusks chew on a rock?"

Luna looked at him. "They're retractable."

"Huh?" blurted Harry. "Retractable _tusks??_ On a _rabbit??_"

He'd heard of retractable claws, but tusks...

Luna nodded. "War Rabbit," she corrected.

"How can you retract a _tusk?_?" asked Harry.

Luna shrugged. "Well, they were magical creatures, you know," she said casually.

Harry looked at her. She was staring back at him, so wideeyed and innocent that he had no idea if she was joking or not. They continued to stare at each other, Harry waiting to see if Luna would suddenly burst out laughing, revealing her hoax.

But no such outburst came. It was Harry who finally broke the pattern of silent staring.

"So...Tusked War Rabbits, then?" he asked.

"Tusked War Rabbits," echoed Luna and smiling brightly.

Harry looked around the forest. "We're not in any danger here, are we?"

Luna giggled. "Oh, no," she said, "they've been extinct for centuries, Harry. You really should read _The Quibbler_ more often."

Harry was strangely tempted to do just that.


End file.
